


Is It Okay If I Come In?

by babybasschick96



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: M/M, Mentioned/Referenced Tim Drake/Conner Kent, Referenced canonical character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 22:54:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9038504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babybasschick96/pseuds/babybasschick96
Summary: A Jaydick and Dami Christmas one-shot.(Starts a little crack-ish but quickly changes into feeling oriented wonderfulness.)





	

“Seriously, Dick—this is wonderful,” Jason repeated himself for what had to have been the thirteenth time, and Dick rolled his eyes as he dropped the lotion he’d just been slathering over his hands back into the opened dresser drawer and pushed it closed with his hip.

“So, you’ve said.”

“It’s just—I mean—there’s so much more that I’m going to be able to _make_ with this,” Jason emphasized, his eyes roaming over the side of the box sitting in front of himself as Dick made his way back over to the bed in the flickering light from the fireplace and the fairy lights around the windows and the bed frame. “Apple sauces…baked pastas…giant batches of garlic potatoes! The possibilities are endless!”

“So, you’ve said that, as well,” Dick huffed out a sigh that went completely unnoticed by the husband in front of him, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “Maybe if the possibilities are so endless, you should hock the rest of your Christmas gifts and run away to some remote island where you can fuck it for the rest of your life.”

_That_ got Jason’s attention, and two very concerned and confused sea green eyes shot up to look over Dick’s in concern.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Dick squirmed a little on his feet, knowing he was being petulant and childish, but not really caring at the same time. “If you and the new Crock Pot Alfred got you are so in love with each other that you can’t stop gushing over it, why don’t you sell the gifts that the rest of us put so much time and effort into finding for you, and run away somewhere where you can just spend all of your time together and don’t have to worry about horny husbands or thirteen year olds that are finally more than just one very thin wall away.”

“…Is this about the necklace you gave me?” was the only response Jason gave after a moment or two of clear incomprehension, and Dick ground his teeth and gripped at his own biceps in response. “Because you know, I _really_ loved it—“

“You are unbelievable!” Dick threw his hands up and turned away, but before he could get very far, strong fingers were closing over the waist band at the back of his pajama pants and he was letting out a very undignified squeak as Jason pulled him backwards onto the bed.

“Geez, Dickie-bird, I’m just kidding,” Jason chuckled, as Dick regained his bearings and glared up at the younger man from where he was inelegantly sprawled across Jason’s lap—the Crock Pot’s box no where to be seen. Dick’s face scrunched up in protest as Jason brushed a kiss to the side of his nose, but Jason’s lips were gone just as soon as they’d come, and Dick’s eyes fluttered back open as Jason pursed his lips and looked towards the ceiling like he was trying to remember something. “Now, what was that you were saying about being horny? ‘Cause I’m not going to lie, I wasn’t _planning_ on doing anything with you tonight, but those jeans you were wearing today were gorgeous, baby, and you make a good point about the two of us actually being alone again.”

“You are such a liar,” Dick rolled his eyes again, but he was already moving and squirming on Jason’s lap, and it was barely three seconds later that his knees were planted on the bed on either side of Jason’s butt cheeks and his hands were feeling their way up over top of Jason’s delicious sides and stomach as he groaned. “But please, Jay-Jay. It’s _Christmas_.”

“You know, you have an odd way of seducing a man?” Jason quirked an eyebrow up at Dick, but his hands started massaging beautiful circles over Dick’s hips, and Dick didn’t care as he whimpered and reached up to cup the sides of Jason’s face in his hands.

“ _Jason_ ,” he pulled himself forward to kiss at Jason’s lips, and everything else was forgotten as Jason’s hands fisted into the fabric of Dick’s pants and the younger man started kissing him back.

“Okay, baby doll,” his lips and tongue moved against the corner of Dick’s mouth as he acquiesced a couple of kisses later. “Okay.”

In spite of all of their joking, the small silver and onyx charm that Dick had given him earlier in the day was still hanging around Jason’s neck, and Dick started trailing his kisses down towards it as Jason’s hands roamed anywhere and everywhere they could over the fabric of his t-shirt and pants. Jason’s cock swelled underneath of Dick’s thigh, and Dick couldn’t help but grind his ass down against it as he let his hands trail back into Jason’s hair and tugged Jason’s head back as the larger man groaned.

“What do you want me to do?” Jason nuzzled over into Dick’s temple once he’d regained his breath.

“I want you to fuck me,” Dick answered, his voice nearing a whine as he teased and laved his lips and teeth over Jason’s throat in response.

“Okay,” Jason repeated himself again with a nod of his head. “I can do that, Dickie-bird. I just need you to give me a second—“

Jason’s words and his awkward attempts at moving the two of them without dislodging Dick from his thighs were interrupted by a tiny knock on the door.

“…Dick? Jason?”

Both of the two men froze as they recognized the voice that accompanied the knocks.

“I—it is me—Damian. I…is it…is it okay if I come in?”

Dick remained frozen in place for a couple of breaths as he listened to Damian talk, until he finally moved back enough that he could look up and meet Jason’s eyes. He for one, wasn’t entirely against ignoring Damian completely and pretending that the two of them had fallen asleep in hopes of the younger boy going away, but he also knew why they couldn’t do that and therefore didn’t protest when Jason bent down and pressed an apologetic kiss to the bridge of his nose before he turned his attention to the door.

“Yeah, but can you give us a minute?” he called, clearing his throat once he was done.

“…Sure,” Damian’s answer came a couple of beats later, and Dick relaxed down against Jason’s chest with a quiet groan.

“I’m sorry, baby doll,” Jason’s arms wound their way around his waist, and held him close.

“That’s okay,” Dick responded, his voice coming out weird and muffled against Jason’s shirt as his own arms looped their way up around Jason’s neck and squeezed. “S’not your fault.”

“Well, no,” Jason hummed, rocking them gently from side to side as he pressed a warm and moist kiss to Dick’s forehead. “But still—I was looking forward to spending some time with you tonight.”

So, Jason’s words earlier _had_ been a lie, and Dick was starting to think that maybe he’d gotten played in his eagerness to sleep with Jason. Damian had long since come to live with them at their apartment, but they’d come back to the Manor for the holidays, and while Dick would be lying if he said he was unhappy with his and Jason’s sex life, he had been looking forward to the freedom that being in the Manor versus at their tiny apartment gave them. Sure, Tim was right across the hall, and where Tim went, Conner went, but they weren’t exactly quiet either, and Conner had become somewhat desensitized to his friends and family members having sex around him. Besides, they’d taken patrol for the night for a chance to get away and would most definitely be too engrossed in each other when they got back to notice if Dick and Jason were up to anything.

“Me, too,” were the words that Dick settled on sighing into Jason’s shoulder, before he gave Jason’s body one last squeeze and started to pull away. Unfortunately, he was still a little hard in his pants, but Jason’s erection had wilted and he knew the rest of his swelling would soon go away, too. The outer side of his thigh running into something heavy as he crawled off of Jason helped, especially when he looked down and snorted. “Really, Jason?”

The Crock Pot that had mysteriously gone missing had just been pushed over to _his_ side of the bed, and Dick was not amused.

“I had to put it somewhere,” Jason gave an unabashed shrug of his shoulders as he reached over to grab the box, but Dick could see the spark of amusement in his eyes, and Dick continued to glare at him for a moment before he turned away as Jason grunted as he lifted it up over himself and carefully set it down on the floor beside the bed. “Have I mentioned how absolutely delectable you looked in that sweater today? Because, hot damn.”

“Ass-kisser,” Dick rolled his eyes and lied through his teeth as he crawled his way closer towards the foot of the bed, donkey kicking his right foot backwards into the warm, fleshy part of Jason’s stomach without any real force when Jason’s hand came down against the swell of his ass as the younger man settled back into his seat up against the pillows and the headboard. Thirty seconds or so later found both of the two of them more or less sitting with a good space of distance between them on the King mattress in a vein attempt at keeping their hands to themselves after a quick squabble and more than a few laughing insults. Dick and Jason’s relationship had always been…physical, but they both liked it that way, and more importantly they could both handle the manhandling and the teasing and in a way they both thrived on it. Dick took another fifteen seconds to school his features and his body back into submission. Habitually, he balanced his weight between one of his hands and his butt cheeks, as he half folded his legs up out to the side, before he called out to Damian as Jason still fidgeted with the pillows behind his back, “You can come in now, Dames!”

“Are you sure?” Damian peeked his head inside the door just far enough that Dick could see the fire reflect off of one of his eyes. “Are both of you decent?”

“Yep,” Dick nodded his head, quite thankful that he’d slipped into a pair of Jason’s old pajama pants and a black thermal after he’d gotten out of the shower instead of just walking out in his birthday suit like he’d thought about doing. Jason had been in a t-shirt and a pair of sweat pants of his own, and his attire was just as clearly evident from where he sat atop the comforter. “Come on in.”

Damian hesitated for another couple of seconds, clearly taking in the scene before him as he shifted his weight uncertainly from foot to foot, before he finally seemed to deem it safe and pushed the door open with a quiet _creak_ so he had enough room to walk in. A small jingle accompanied Damian’s footsteps, along with the soft pads of an animal’s paws, as Damian stepped into the room, and Dick wasn’t the least bit surprised when Persephone—Jason’s black and brown calico—jumped up onto the bed as Damian turned to reclose the door behind himself. Dick spared a second to reach out his free hand and let her sniff at it for a second before he reached up and scratched the back of her ears as she deemed his presence acceptable and continued on her way to her true human.

Of course, Jason and Dick had brought the two cats and Titus to the Manor with them, but while Titus and Alfred flourished with all of the extra room to run around, Persephone disliked it, and chose to stayed as close to Jason or Damian as she could get. When the family had slowly dispersed earlier in the evening after the bulk of the festivities had come to an end, she’d followed Damian up to his room in hopes of someplace a little quieter, but from the way she immediately butted her head up against Jason’s thigh and started purring as he reached down for her, Dick could tell that she was happy with this latest turn of events.

Alfred and Titus were nowhere to be found, but that didn’t particularly surprise Dick either.

Damian hesitated with his hand on the doorknob for a second before he turned around and slowly started making his way to over to the bed. He had something tucked underneath of one of his arms—a rectangular package that was wrapped in what looked like butcher’s paper with a small red ribbon tied around it in a bow—but Dick had no idea what it was as Damian looked in between him and Jason cautiously.

“Are you sure it’s okay that I’m in here?” he asked, hesitantly, and Dick was starting to get worried.

“Of course, baby bird,” he nodded his head emphatically, and while he could hear Persephone’s purrs and the jingle of her bell as Jason turned her over onto her back like a baby and pressed a kiss to her forehead, Dick could feel Jason’s gaze on the back of his head, and knew that he wasn’t the only one who was concerned. Thoughts of stolen kisses and sweaty skin evaporated into worries as he reached his free hand around his torso and patted the empty space of the bed between himself and Jason’s sock covered feet. “Why don’t you come sit down, and talk to us about whatever’s on your mind?”

“Okay,” Damian conceded, and gave only the tiniest of huffs as he climbed his way up onto the bed, cradling the package to his chest delicately but very noticeably refusing to put it down. “This shouldn’t take very long. I just wanted a minute to talk to the two of you guys, and then you can…you can get back to _whatever_ it was that you were doing.”

“We weren’t doing anything—“ Dick quickly started to protest, but he was cut off by both Dick and Jason.

“Grayson—”

“ _Dick_.”

Damian’s admonishment was annoyed, if not lacking its usual degree of heat, but it was Jason’s quiet reprimand that had Dick turning to lock eyes with the man he called his love. Jason still had Persephone cradled like a baby, with the fingers of his left hand playing at her fur, but that did nothing to diminish the intensity of his gaze as Dick was enraptured by the soft tones of his eyes.

“We’ve talked about this.”

And whether Dick liked to admit it or not, they had. Damian was one of the most capable assassins in the world, and he deserved to be respected as such. Whether he’d been able to deduce the extent of the thing he’d just interrupted or not, he’d known that he had interrupted _something_ , and denying that would only make him feel unappreciated or question his skills, and neither of those two possibilities were good, so Dick quickly amended.

“—Important,” the word was quiet and weak, but Dick still said it as his cheeks tinged red. “We weren’t doing anything _important_.”

“Exactly,” Jason affirmed calmly, and Dick was relieved when Damian’s eyes flicked back over towards him instead. “So, what did you need, baby bird?”

“I—well, it’s nothing _important_ ,” Damian emphasized the word as he looked down at the comforter and picked idly at a stray thread, but Dick had a feeling it wasn’t because he was trying to mock Dick. “But…I just…there was something that I decided to get for you this Christmas this year—something that I decided to make—and…well…I did not think it was a good idea to give it to you in front of everybody else. I—I understand why Father has sent me to you, what with him having to go away and all with the League and with the company, and I also understand that you do not mind having me around, but…I do know that the two of you go out of your way to try to make me comfortable, and to make sure that I have all that I need, and I wanted to make sure you know that I appreciate the…sacrifices that you have made. I know Father compensates you for the money you spend on me, but you two do a lot more than just make sure I have the most basic of necessities, and I…I _appreciate_ that.”

“Damian, you know that you don’t owe us anything—“ Jason started to launch into the usual spiel that they gave Damian any time that the subject came up, but Damian quickly cut him off.

“Yes, yes, I know, but that is the whole point of this holiday, is it not?” Damian asked as he looked back up in between Jason and Dick, and Dick had to say that he was kind of impressed (if not a little confused, still). “Getting gifts and things for the people you care about even though you do not technically have to as a way to say you appreciate them and are thankful for the things they do?”

“Well, yes,” Jason nodded his head, but Dick could see that he was going to go on by the concerned furrow of his brow as he tipped Persephone over onto her feet and sat back against the pillows again. “But, you’ve already given us enough—“

The three of them had exchanged gifts earlier in the morning with the rest of the family, and aside from a couple of presents Jason and Dick had left back at their apartment because they weren’t exactly family friendly, the assorted books, ties, and serving platters Damian had gifted them were more than enough, and Dick honestly didn’t know what else it was that Damian could have made for them that he hadn’t comfortable giving to them in front of Bruce.

“—You didn’t need to get us anything more.”

“I _know_ ,” Damian huffed as he rolled his eyes, but the show of annoyance was more fond than anything else. “But I did it anyway, so would you just get your overly large posterior down here and help Dick open it up so we can all go to bed already?”

“Alright, alright,” Jason chuckled with a smile before he pushed himself up off of the mattress with a sigh and crawled his way down towards where Dick and Damian sat. Dick watched him with mild interest as he moved—the way that his chest and shoulders flexed as he shifted his weight forward on to his hands and the way that the swell of his ass curved as he propelled himself forward…—but quickly remembered that Damian was still in the room and looked away. Thankfully, neither Damian nor Jason seemed to notice, though, and barely three or four seconds later, Jason was settling down at Dick’s side, sitting half way in between Dick and Damian as Dick shifted to match his crisscross applesauce style. Jason’s thigh brushed up comfortingly against Dick’s, and Dick didn’t miss Damian shifting a couple of inches closer to the two of them. “So, what do you have for us?”

“Yeah, c’mon,” Dick added jokingly. “The suspense is killing me. Is it more ties? It’s more ties, isn’t it?”

“No, you buffoon,” Damian deigned to give him a put-upon glare as he pushed himself up into a kneeling position with his feet tucked underneath of his butt and held the package out in front of himself. “It is not more ties. Besides, _you_ were the one that insisted I start buying them for you in the first place.”

“That I did,” Dick grinned as he reached up to take the package, surprised at how heavy it was. The wrapping paper was in fact some form of butcher’s paper, and that was a little weird because the rest of the gifts that Damian had given them were wrapped in some of the more festive papers that Jason kept around the apartment for such things, but then again, he wondered if maybe Damian had done it trying to keep from drawing attention to it. A small tag was pressed onto the top right corner, opposite of the bow tied by hand, addressed to Dick and Jason with “Damian” written on the _From_ line in Damian’s impressive script. Without hesitating, Dick passed the package along to Jason, and Dick could see his own subtle surprise mirrored back at him as Jason took it in hand. “You want to open it?”

“Sure,” Jason agreed as he gingerly pulled the package into his lap and looked it over. “Are we okay to just…unwrap this or is there something special we need to do…?”

“Just unwrapping it should be fine,” Damian answered, shifting a bit as if surprised Jason had cared enough to ask such a question. “The ribbon might be a little hard to get off, but…other than that it should be fine.”

“Alright,” Jason agreed again, and after giving Dick one last look started in on the bow. Thankfully, Jason was prepared for such things, and just pulled a knife out of his pocket and cut through the ribbon on the back side of the package. Dick gave a soft snort and reached over for bow as Jason folded his knife back up against his leg and slid it back into his pocket, but Damian didn’t any kind of an indication that he minded. Jason made quick work of the paper, too—one of his fingers slipping up underneath of the overlapped lip before he pulled the tape off and set about unwrapping and tearing the rest of it off, and Dick’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as one of Damian’s sketchbooks came into view underneath.

Dick wasn’t entirely sure where Damian had gotten it—Damian had received or bought quite a few sketchbooks over the three or four years he’d been in Gotham, and Dick had long since given up trying to keep track of all of them—but Dick most definitely recognized the faux wooden binding, and could remember seeing Damian with it over the previous couple of months. Dick was certain that it was some kind of mistake, that Damian had wrapped the wrong thing or given it to them on accident, but one quick look up at the way Damian was nervously biting his lip told Dick that the sketchbook was in fact what he’d been intending to give them, so Dick resisted the urge to say anything.

Another quick look up at Jason as Jason balled up the paper and set it aside told Dick that Jason was just as confused as he was, but they turned their attentions back down to the book as Jason flattened it out in his lap and reached for the bottom right corner of the cover, and Dick gasped as Jason slowly opened it and he got a look at what was inside.

There, on the very first page, was a charcoal sketch of Jason and Dick sitting on the couch back at their apartment, curled up with a blanket over their laps as they laughed at some kind of book spread over top of Jason’s lap, and Dick—he remembered that day. That evening that he and Jason had shared laughing over some kind of _Calvin and Hobbes_ collection while Damian sat sketching in the armchair across from them as boxes of pizza sat on the table in between them, and judging by the way that Jason’s hand tightened around the edge where he supported the book, he remembered it, too.

The sketch in and of its self was beautiful. The sure lines and the shading perfectly captured the glee on Jason’s face and the steam rising out of Dick’s cup of coffee and the love that very clearly flowed between the two of them, but even more so, they spoke of the love between the artist and his subjects. Every stroke and smudge had been carefully placed to show Dick and Jason in the absolute best of lights and spoke highly of how Damian looked at the two of them, and Dick felt tears prick at his eyes before he had a chance to stop them.

Almost without realizing it, he reached across his body towards the book and grabbed the top corner of the page—careful not to smudge any of the marks—and flipped it over to the next. Once again, a charcoal sketch stared back at them, but instead of Jason and Dick, it was of just Jason, standing in front of the sink in their kitchen as he peeled a potato into the sink, clearly preparing their dinner. It wasn’t quite as detailed as the first, the shading wasn’t the same caliber of that on the first page, but Dick assumed that Damian hadn’t had the same amount of time to capture the scene as he had the first. Jason was smiling, but his focus was down on the potato in his hand, so Dick could only assume that the two of them had been talking as he’d worked.

The third page contained a landscape water color painting of Persephone amongst the blankets on Jason and Dick’s bed back at their apartment and Dick gave another small inhale of shock at how beautiful it was. The page in and of itself was significantly thicker than the rest, due to the paint, but Damian had been very careful about not letting any of it bleed onto the other pages. Where the other pictures had been crafted out of black and white and the various shades of gray in between, this one was full of color and a stunning contrast to the first two.

Another turn of the page revealed a rough sketch of Dick himself, his body supported on one leg as he struck a punching bag with his elevated foot, and Dick found himself swallowing thickly as that same obvious devotion became evident in the quick swipes of the lines as Damian tried to get all of the proper angles down on paper.

One more revealed a color penciled landscape drawing of Jason, Dick, and Damian sitting together on the couch, clearly watching something on the TV as Damian rested contentedly in between his two caretakers and Dick ran his fingers through Jason’s hair absently.

The third brought Dick face to face with another charcoal version himself sitting on top of a pinned Jason’s hips as they smiled at each other—both shirtless in sweatpants with their hands wrapped as they sparred on their training mats.

The fourth brought about another watercolor—Dick dozing in the chair in front of the Bat Computer in his Bat Suit as the light from the computer threw his features into stark contrast.

The fifth brought back a quick pencil sketch of Persephone as she sat out on the window ledge, looking out at the birds flying by the fire escape.

The sixth brought another one of the three of them, showing their backs as they sat atop of one of Gotham’s sky rises and looked out over the horizon in front of them all colored out in dark pastels.

The seventh guest stared Tim, passed out on their couch with his limbs sprawled every which way and his head pillowed in Conner’s lap as Jason sat on the arm of the couch and quite obviously conversed with Conner as he scratched at his elbow.

“Do you like it?” Jason was in the process of turning over the eighth page when Damian spoke up again and both of he and Dick looked up at him. “’Cause it’s okay if you don’t, I just—I wanted to get you guys something personal, but any time you want something you just go out and get it yourselves and I wasn’t sure what would be appropriate, but—“

“It’s beautiful, Dames,” Dick cut him off, eyes quickly flashing back down to another landscape charcoal—this time of Alfred the Cat and Titus curled up on Titus’ dog bed in Damian’s room—before he looked back up at Damian. “Really—I’ve never seen anything like this before! When did you do all of this?”

“Any chance I got, really,” Damian answered him as his eyes flicked back down to the book in between them, and Dick followed them only to find himself face to face with Jason again. He was outlined in charcoal, but while he’d been relaxed or happy in the others, this time he was angry—eyes looking somewhere off of the page in concern and worry as he clearly moved through the roughly drawn backdrop of _somewhere_ in his Red Hood suit with his mask off and the hood of his sweatshirt hanging off of the back of his neck, and once again, Dick knew where Damian had gotten his inspiration.

Bruce had sent Dick and Damian off to do some recon on a warehouse but there had been more bad guys with better technology than they’d anticipated. Dick and Damian had gotten themselves caught, and it had taken the entirety of the rest of the family to take down the operation and save the two of them in time. Jason had been absolutely _pissed_ about it—both about Bruce sending them in without knowing more about the guys first, and about Dick and Damian getting captured—and had laid into Bruce right there in the warehouse before he’d marched Dick and Damian home and refused to allow either of them out of the apartment for a day or two.

Dick wasn’t entirely sure why, but something about the bad guys had scared Damian (or they’d at least gotten as close to scaring Damian as anything did), and he’d been reluctant to put on the suit and slept in with Jason and Dick for awhile, so Dick had actually been thankful for Jason’s overprotectiveness, and Dick could most definitely see that protectiveness mirrored back at him in this Jason’s features and body language on the page.

“I did not _intend_ for it to be a gift for the two of you or anything like that, but I did notice the further I went along that I had only crafted pictures of the three of us and the animals in there, and Pennyworth asked me a couple of months back if I wanted any help procuring something specific for the two of you for Christmas because he assumed that you had provided me with sufficient aid in gathering a gift for Father, and as I tried to come up with an answer for him…nothing else seemed adequate…”

Another idle flip of the page on Jason’s behalf as Damian explained himself brought Dick face to face with himself, smiling contentedly as he drove his way through what had to have been the outskirts of Gotham on their way up to the Manor with the sun framed in the cracked window behind him, colored in what clearly had to be colored pencils.

“…If either of you are interested in some form of material possession, you will go out and buy it yourselves, as I have already mentioned, and there is not much around the house that we really need—at least nothing that I did not suspect that somebody else was going to gift you, so those things were out, and even if they were not, none of them felt like an apposite expression of how I feel…”

The next picture was another of Dick and Jason, Dick resting his head down against Jason’s chest tiredly as Jason held him with a couple of candles lit on the peninsula that separated the kitchen from the dining area in “front” of them, and Dick remembered that day, too. Instead of allowing Dick to talk him down off of the Kane Bridge, a man had jumped and all Dick could do was watch him fall. Dick came home that night and unceremoniously fell over on top of Jason, and Jason had pulled him into the kitchen that he had just finished cleaning and started twirling him around to some instrumental piece that Dick didn’t even know the name of and told Dick that it was all going to be okay until Dick didn’t have any more tears left to shed, and even still, they’d stayed there like that, just holding each other as Dick listened to Jason’s heartbeat as Jason moved them around the kitchen…

Dick had thought that Damian had already been in bed that night—that he’d slept through Dick coming home and Dick had been thankful for that—but maybe Dick had been wrong.

“…You two have done so much for me over these last couple of years and I don’t know how to repay that…”

Jason turned the page again, and Dick was too enraptured with the watercolor of the view outside of their living room window and the sheer amount of detail to argue with Damian’s words.

“…When I came here to live with Father, I thought the world owed me everything—that I _deserved_ it—but after spending time with Father and after…after being rejected by mother, I realize that is not the case…”

The thick page gave way to another thin one, and Dick almost laughed aloud at the sight of their tiny little Christmas Tree, framed by the handmade tree skirt on the bottom with their pre-wrapped gifts set to one side and their stockings hung up along on the wall on the other. Dick wasn’t entirely sure what Damian had used to color it, but Damian had taken the time to draw in some of their Christmas ornaments, and Dick would place money on the detailing of their stockings being exact.

“…Aside from Father asking it, the two of you had no obligation to take me in and treat me as well as you have, but I am thankful that you did…”

The second to last picture was another color pencil of Jason and Dick. This time they were wearing sweaters and standing underneath of a sprig of mistletoe in one of the doorways of the Manor with Jason’s arm holding Dick’s waist tight to Jason’s front as they shared a smiling a kiss, and Dick recognized their clothes as the ones they’d worn to family dinner only a few days before. Tim had put up the mistletoe as a joke (and an excuse to make out with his boyfriend), and Dick had found himself leaning against the door jamb drinking a cup of coffee as he’d watched Jason help Alfred prepare the marinade for the Christmas Turkey while the rest of the family had laughed behind him in the living room that they’d claimed for family affairs, and before Dick had known what was happening, Tim was demanding a mistletoe kiss, and Jason hadn’t disappointed. Most everybody else had made loud retching sounds or booed at their tendency to be a little more affectionate than strictly necessary, but Dick had just rolled his eyes, and pointed his finger at Tim for his meddling ways.

“…If it were not for you, I would not have come to love and care about the multitude of things that I love and care about, and that is a greater gift than anything else that anybody has ever given me…”

The last picture was once again a charcoal in portrait, but Dick’s breath caught just as quickly as it had with the first once, and all at once he understood why Damian hadn’t wanted to give them the book in front of the rest of the family. He’d taken and copied the family portrait that Alfred had commissioned every year, but instead of copying the entire thing, he’d focused in on just Jason and Dick with Damian standing in front and in between the two of them, and it touched a place in Dick’s heart that had him sliding his hand down into Jason’s and he squeezed the fingers he found there to keep himself from crying.

“…You two have become my family more than any of my blood relations ever have, and I _appreciate_ that. I have come to care about the two of you so very much, and I do not know where I would be without the two of you, and quite truthfully, the thought of it scares me. You two have shown me that I can be whomever I want to be, and not what my mother or my father thinks is best, and I love you so very much for it. I thought…I thought that no matter what happened, no matter where I went, I had to be whomever _they_ wanted me to be, and you have accepted me for everything that I am, even the things you do not like, and—and—and—“

“Oh, baby bird,” Damian’s words trailed off as a sob caught in his throat and without hesitating, Dick reached forward and scooped the boy up into his arms, lifting and shifting him until he was sitting across Dick’s lap with his face buried down into Dick’s neck as he sobbed. Dick wasn’t entirely sure when the tears had started, but his face had already been red and soaked before Dick had looked up, and Jason was in the process of closing the book and setting it aside as Dick ducked down to press a wet kiss to Damian forehead. “It’s okay.”

The rocking from side to side came naturally to Dick and soon enough Jason was there, too, looping his arm down underneath of Dick’s to help support Damian’s weight as he smoothed a hand down the exposed part of Damian’s back and pressed a kiss of his own into Damian’s hair. He’d looped his leg back around Dick’s butt so he could get closer to the two of them, and Dick shifted again, closing the inch or two of space between himself and Jason as he slotted himself and Damian up against Jason’s broad shoulders and chest.

“You don’t have to thank us for anything,” he rubbed his hand comfortingly over the outside of Damian’s thigh as Jason settled his free hand on the back of Dick’s ribcage. “We love you, too.”

There were many things that Dick wanted to say in response to Damian’s long spiel and the sketchbook that he’d given them, but those were the only words he could manage, and surprisingly they seemed like enough. Damian continued to cry, his chest hitching and puffing as he clutched at Dick’s shirt as if it held the answers to the world, and Dick just sat there rocking him through it, murmuring nonsense words of comfort as he pressed kisses into Damian’s hair. It was probably five or so minutes later that Damian’s tears finally stopped, and not too long after that he reached up with his free hand to wipe at his cheeks as he sniffed and tried to compose himself.

“S-sorry,” he apologized. “I d-didn’t mean—“

“Shh,” Dick hushed him immediately, reaching over with the hand not supporting Damian’s weight to brush away the tears that Damian kept missing with his thumb. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Damian froze for a moment, hand curled up against his own chest in scared confusion, before he blinked and melted back down against Dick’s chest with his face pressed back into Dick’s neck.

“Thank you, for the book,” Dick continued to rock them, but his motions slowed until he was barely moving them back and forth. “It is absolutely beautiful.”

“It is,” Jason agreed, and Dick found just as much comfort in the soft rumble of his voice as he did in the smell of cinnamon and spice that had come to encompass all three of them. “Thank you, for putting so much time and effort into something for us, and thank you, for coming and staying with us and feeling like you can be yourself around us. You feeling safe and comfortable in our home is something that it is very important to your brother and I, and I want you to know that if that ever changes and you don’t feel comfortable, you can come talk to us and we’ll do whatever we can to remedy the problem. You are always welcome to come stay with Dick and I, no matter what happens.”

There were a handful of exceptions to that—neither Jason nor Dick would tolerate substance abuse while Damian was actively participating, or Damian being physically or verbally abusive in a relationship—but even those exceptions had a hundred different stipulations, and Dick didn’t think it was the time or place to detail them. Insecurities aside, Damian knew how they felt about such things, and Dick had hoped that he’d seen enough of the world to understand the reasons why Dick and Jason wouldn’t support him in such endeavors.

“I—th-thank you,” Damian sniffed, peaking back up from his hiding place in Dick’s neck, and Dick smiled down at him for a moment before he looked up, craning his neck back so he could see around Jason to their nightstands only to stop when Jason waved a white sheet of something in front of his face. How Jason had known that Dick was looking for a tissue was beyond Dick, but he’d had the foresight to grab a couple somewhere along the lines, and Dick took it from him with a grateful smile before he looked back down at the boy in his arms and passed it along so Damian could use it to blow his running nose. A couple of tissues later had Damian looking much better, though still tired, and he slid himself off of Dick’s lap so he could look at both of the two of them, but Jason stayed pressed up against Dick and Damian didn’t move far. “I did not intend for this to be such an emotional thing on my behalf.”

“That’s quite alright,” Jason brushed off his concern with an easy going smile, but Dick could see the hidden concern and overwhelming gratitude in his beautiful eyes. “Two months ago, you and Dick walked in on me crying over a bowl of cereal, so it’s all good.”

Dick had grabbed a box of Apple Jacks at the store, just for something different to have, and he’d forgotten in his hurry that they were Lian’s favorite. Jason had woken up from a nap and wandered into the kitchen to grab something to eat without even paying attention to what he was doing. It was only after he’d taken the first bite that he’d realized, and Dick and Damian had walked in on him, just as Jason had said, and Dick had spent a large majority of the rest of that evening holding Jason against his chest, spilling tears of his own as Jason clung to his waist and sobbed just as hard as he did any time he was reminded of the little girl that they’d all lost.

“Tt—that is very true,” Damian made that scoffing sound of his for the first time since he’d stepped into their room, and even though it lacked its usual fervor, Dick knew that he was going to be alright. “We are a bunch of emotional saps, are we not?”

“I blame Bruce,” Jason nodded his head sympathetically, and Dick snorted before he burst out in a fit of giggles.

“Yeah, sure—we’ll go with that,” Dick reached down to pat at Jason’s thigh once or twice as he turned his attention back towards Damian. “You feel like staying in here with Jase and I for the night?”

“Oh—well—no—I had just planned on going back down to my own room—“

“Too bad,” Jason promptly cut Damian’s protests off, pulling away from Dick abruptly as he reached for the sketchbook and pushed himself up off of the bed. “You’re staying with us.”

“I agree,” Dick declared, ignoring Damian’s confused protests as his brain struggled to catch up with this latest turn of events. “You mind checking the fire for us, babe?”

“Not at all,” Jason agreed easily as he set the sketchbook down on his nightstand on his way over to said fire. “Either of you need anything else while I’m up?”

“Nope,” Dick shook his head as he hooked his arm back underneath of Damian’s arms and dragged the boy up towards the head of the bed. “Just your beautiful lips to kiss and your warm arms to curl up in.”

“Aw, Dickie Bird…you’re so sweet.”

“More like disgusting,” Damian snorted, but he didn’t fight Dick’s manhandling as he dropped him down onto the pillows, and in fact quickly moved so that Dick could move the covers down underneath of where he’d been sitting. “Weren’t you two in the middle something when I came in here?”

“Nope,” Jason shook his head again, shooting a mirthful grin over his shoulder as he headed towards the bathroom. “At least not anything that can’t wait for tomorrow. Alfred’s got us all stuck here until New Year’s so I’m sure Dickie and I ‘ll be able to steal a moment away to ourselves sometime between now and then.”

“Definitely,” Dick agreed, slipping his own legs under the covers before he reached up for Damian and guided him back down on to the mattress as the ding of Persephone’s bell announced her presence at Dick’s back. “Christmas is meant for family anyway, and you’re crazy if you think we’re letting you leave after all of that.”

“Amen to that,” Jason added as he came back into the room, shutting the light to the bathroom off behind himself. “You already let Titus out and stuff, right?”

“Yes,” Damian nodded his head, as he snuggled back down into Dick’s side, and Dick’s chest swelled with warmth in response. “And Pennyworth has assured me that he will return him to my room if I don’t come back downstairs for him.”

“Awesome,” Jason gave a small grunt as he hoisted himself up onto the bed and crawled his way over to Damian’s other side and slid underneath of the blankets. “Is there enough room for me?”

“Of course, there is, Jay-Jay,” Dick answered him before Damian could get any kind of a smartass remark in, and was promptly rewarded with a kiss pressed to his lips. “Mm—thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Jason gave a chuckling response as Damian protested in between the two of them.

“Do you two _really_ have to do this?” he rolled his eyes as Jason pulled back and settled himself down into the mattress and finished situating the covers around himself.

“Yep,” Dick nodded his head, chuckling a little bit himself at the way that Damian’s nose scrunched in response. “You’ll understand when you’re older. You good over there, Jay?”

“Yep,” Jason’s grunted answer came, and pretty soon the only noises that Dick could hear where the cracks from the fire across the way. The three lay there for a moment before Jason spoke up again quietly. “Did you have a good Christmas this year, Damian?”

“I…did,” Damian answered after a moment, his voice thoughtful as his fingers played absently with something on Dick’s shirt. “It was…enjoyable, this whole experience. I mean, we’ve celebrated Christmas before, but…this was the first year that I’ve truly understood what all of the fuss is about… What about you guys? Did you enjoy Christmas?”

“Yes,” Dick nodded his head firmly in answer, as Jason chirped out a yes from where he laid curled around Damian’s back. “Very much so. It’s not a secret that I love the holidays, but…this year was a good one. Everybody was able to get together and Roy was able to come this year, and it—it was just a really good year.”

“I agree,” Jason’s voice was just the slightest bit gravely, and Dick didn’t doubt that his thoughts were of his best friend and his lost goddaughter, but Dick also couldn’t bring himself to regret mentioning Roy. As morbid of a though as it was, Lian was gone, and there was nothing anybody could do to change that. It was hard—it was always going to be hard—but Roy needed to live his life, and partaking in the holiday spirits with those still around to enjoy them was part of that. “It was good to see Ma again, and all of the extra hands helped to take some of the stress off of Alfred, and I’m very thankful for that. As annoying as this family can be at times, I really do care about all of you, and it’s nice to be allowed back around again, even if it has been going on for a few years like Dick said.”

“That’s true,” Damian agreed with their statements in general, and for a moment Dick thought that was going to be it, but then Damian spoke up again. “And you…you really like the sketchbook?”

“Yes, baby bird,” Dick watched Jason’s silhouette move as he bent down to press a kiss to the back of Damian’s head.

“We loved it,” Dick swooped down for a kiss of his own after Jason had pulled back, his hand smoothing down Damian’s back underneath of Jason’s thick arm. “Best gift we got.”

“Well, aside from the necklace that Dickie got me—“

_Thunk_ , Dick’s fist collided with Jason’s bicep before he could finish whatever he was going to say, and Jason’s loud laughter filled the room as he rolled over onto his back and clutched at his arm.

“Ass hole—“

“I’m missing something, aren’t I?” Damian asked, as Jason and Dick wrestled back and forth over top of his body—careful not to hurt him in their fun.

“Yes,” they answered more or less at the same time, Dick with an annoyed huff while Jason grinned and continued to chuckle through his. “Dickie’s got his panties in a twist ‘cause I like the Crockpot Alfred got me so much.”

“I do not have my panties in a twist,” Dick bit back, losing his steam but still trying to put up a good fight for show. He had both of Jason’s wrists caught in his hands, but that didn’t mean much compared to Jason’s sheer size. “And don’t act like you weren’t _seconds_ away from making out with it before I came in here earlier—“

“It is a rather thoughtful gift,” Damian commented from below and Dick had just enough time to give a frustrated roll of his eyes and groan before Jason was forcing him backwards, pinning him down to the mattress with his body weight at what would have been an uncomfortable angle for any one not as flexible as himself. Damian was still “in between” them, Jason’s hips and lower torso splayed across his back, but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t experienced before, and he refrained from complaining so Dick doubted he was that uncomfortable.

“Not you, too.”

“Face it, Dick,” Dick could only see half of Jason’s face in the firelight, but his grin and the mirth in his eyes were some of the most beautiful things Dick had ever seen. “Everybody loves the Crockpot.”

“Fine,” he let out a heaving sigh. “But I get you on weekends and holidays—every other Tuesday, too!”

“I think that can be arranged,” Jason’s grinned sharpened into a wolfish smirk and Dick had just a second to enjoy it before their lips were dancing together in a quick kiss. “I’d like to go to bed now, though, if it’s okay with you.”

“If we have to,” Dick pushed himself up long enough to kiss Jason’s lips one last time, and after a few cheek and nose and forehead kisses that Dick couldn’t exactly keep track of, Jason was pulling away and slumping back down to his own side of Damian as all three of them repositioned themselves until they were comfortable again. “Everybody good now?”

“Yep,” Jason slid his hand back up around Dick’s hip as Dick settled an arm around Damian’s waist.

“Yes,” Damian nodded his head between them.

“Good,” Dick declared as he burrowed his way down into the pillow underneath of his head a little bit more as Jason’s fingers started rubbing small circles into his skin and not even fifteen minutes later Damian was falling asleep against his chest.

“Good night, baby bird,” Jason’s fingers stilled as he pressed a lingering kiss to the back of Damian’s head, but Dick hardly cared.

“Ni’,” Damian murmured back a half-asleep response as he turned himself over, but barely three seconds later he had resettled again with his back pressed right up against Dick’s front, and Dick had to resist the urge to chuckle for fear of the motion waking up him up.

“Good night, Dick,” Jason addressed him next and before Dick could stop himself, he was reaching up with his right hand and grabbing Jason’s jaw, and Jason gave into the pressure almost immediately.

“Good night, Little Wing,” Dick breathed, and without having to ask he was blessed with one more kiss for the evening. “Tomorrow—we’ll send the little one out to dinner with Bruce and we’ll take some time to ourselves, alright?”

“Of course,” Jason’s hand squeezed Dick’s hip as he tilted his head to press his lips against Dick’s palm, and Dick’s thumb rubbed over what little of Jason’s skin he could reach in response. “Now go to sleep.”

“I am,” Dick hummed, and Jason kissed his palm one last time before Dick pulled it away. The sheets rustled as they moved and Damian gave a quiet noise of protest, but he quieted as Dick’s arm settled back around his waist and Jason curled his body back around the upper half of his torso until his nose was somewhat buried in Dick’s hair. “I am.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hock: a slang term for pawning or selling one's possession to a second hand store (usually) for only a fraction of their true value.
> 
> A Crock Pot is an electric oven that cooks food with "low" heat over long periods of time similarly to how a Dutch Oven would. They are absolutely glorious--as you can leave them on at home all day while you are away with little-to-no risk and can make larger portions of things--and I would definitely recommend them to somebody who is interested in trying one!
> 
> As always, thank you for taking the time to read this, and Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all!  
> (Sorry, if their are small editing mistakes on this--it's been a long week and I'm very tired, but I wanted to make sure that this was posted on Christmas.)


End file.
